Buchanan's Pride Read Free Page B

bad as she’d first thought. Maybe he was right about the doctor. The area was swollen, but the damage appeared fairly minor. “It might leave a scar,” she cautioned.
    John made one of those macho snorts that indicated he was too tough to be concerned with such things. “Got any antiseptic?” he asked. “That and a bandage is all I need. And a decent night’s rest. By morning I’ll be fine.”
    â€œYou still haven’t told me what happened out there,” Leah persisted. “Were you hitchhiking?”
    She’d rested one hand on his wide shoulder as she cleaned his forehead. Before she moved it, she felt the muscles go rigid under her palm.
    â€œYeah, I was hitchhiking,” he replied. As she rinsed out the cloth, he lapsed into silence.
    â€œAnd then what happened?” she prompted, dabbing the wound with a cotton ball. Honestly, prying information out of him was like getting Duke to talk.
    â€œHappened?” John echoed as she surveyed her handiwork.
    â€œYeah,” she urged. “What happened next? How did you get from hitching a ride to lying in my driveway with a bump on your head?”
    â€œOh, that.” He frowned. “We argued. He didn’t want to take me any farther. When I got out of his truck I must have tripped, hit my head on a rock.”
    Leah gaped at him, the roll of tape in her hand nearly forgotten. “And he drove away?”
    John shrugged. “Guess so.”
    Indignation flooded through her. “Well, you have to call and report him,” she insisted as she taped a gauze pad on the cut.
    â€œFor what?” John demanded. “He gave me a ride. He let me out. What laws did he break?” His gaze was steady on hers and his eyes appeared to be evenly dilated. Did that mean he didn’t have a concussion? She wasn’t sure.
    Before she could argue, he got to his feet and brushed past her. “Thanks for fixing me up,” he said.
    Leah trailed after him back into the living room. Suddenly Duke whined. He was standing in the kitchen with his front paws on the counter below the cupboard where she kept his canned food. Remembering the chores that still awaited her, Leah glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner.
    John must have noticed. “Look, if you’d just let me bed down in your barn tonight, I’d be much obliged. Before I leave in the morning, I’ll help you out around here. You must have some work I could do to repay you, especially if you live alone.”
    The poor man must be exhausted, she realized guiltily. No doubt what he needed most was rest, and she’d been playing twenty questions.
    â€œI appreciate the offer,” she replied, “but I really don’t think you’re going to feel like cleaning stalls tomorrow.”
    He shrugged. “Whatever needs doing, I can do,” he insisted. “Maybe I could stick around for a few days, help you out.”
    â€œIsn’t there somewhere you need to be?” Leah asked. And how was he going to get anywhere without a car? She supposed she could give him a ride to the bus station in town, but the idea of another pair of hands pitching in was sorely tempting. Maybe she could take him the day after, on her way to work, instead.
    â€œI’m in no hurry,” John replied, puzzling her. Perhaps he was just a rootless drifter, after all.
    Duke whined again. Leah realized how late it was getting and how tired she was. It had been a long day and tomorrow would be no different. She searched John’s face, wanting desperately to go along with what he’d suggested, but not sure she should. Perhaps she’d give Sheriff Brody a call when she got the chance, just to be on the safe side. It wouldn’t hurt to rule out escaped convicts or missing mental patients. Not that John acted like either, but how did she know for sure?
    â€œYou look beat,” he said quickly. “You wouldn’t have to pay